


Paintjob

by grimcognito



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: MTMTE
Genre: M/M, Tactile Interfacing, plug-n-play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-27 17:56:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/981903
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimcognito/pseuds/grimcognito
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ambulon needs a new paintjob, Pipes kindly offers to give him one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paintjob

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fulcrumisthebomb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fulcrumisthebomb/gifts), [Gemi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gemi/gifts).



> Standard Disclaimers apply: I do not own anything other than the plot and arrangement of words in this story. 
> 
> Why fandom, is there not a hundred more fics of these two? Now you have to settle for mine.

Pipes laid out an array of cosmetic tools on his berth. Ambulon was laying on his own across the room, waiting for Pipes to start and wondering how he’d been convinced to do this. A chip of paint broke off as he brushed his hand over his chest plating. Right. Pipes had promised a new paintjob, a better paintjob. 

He wasn’t sure why his hadn’t worked very well. A new coat of paint couldn’t be that complicated, but apparently it was. Pipes had shyly offered to redo his, and after several offers, he finally gave in. Maybe Whirl would stop trying to scrape it off every time Ambulon passed him in the halls.

Pipes came closer carrying a wide scraper in one hand and what looked like a mix between a buffer and a sander in the other. “Okay, First off, we gotta get rid of the original layer, or the coating will keep your new paint from holding. That’s why it chips so much. And you can stop looking so nervous, I do my own paint all the time! It was my hobby back on Cybertron. I can add some cool designs if you want.”

Ambulon frowned, staring at the tools. “No, no, just these colors will do. I don’t need to stand out.”

“Alright!” Pipes said cheerfully, setting down the sander/buffer whatever-it-was. “You’ll have to turn down your sensory net, the first layer won’t be too much of a bother, but getting the original paint off might sting. You’ll tingle for a couple days after the new paint, but that’s all. Is this really your first real new paintjob?”

“Apart from my clearly failed attempt, and some touch-ups, yes. Well, the one I got during my reformatting was done while I was in stasis, so I guess this is my second.” 

Pipes didn’t take hold of the opportunity to dig deeper, like many other mechs would, simply nodded and hummed to himself as he began scraping away the first coat of paint. He worked quickly, with a deftness that surprised Ambulon. He was used to seeing Pipes acting clumsier, half the time unsure of himself or overly eager. Now, he was caught, mesmerized by the even, efficient movements, the low melodic humming, and the warmth that Pipes’ hands left on his plating wherever they rested.

When Pipes finished his first half and uncovered the Decepticon symbol, Ambulon looked away, but Pipes merely kept going, his humming pausing only for a klick. When he was done he had Ambulon stand up so he could brush the chipped remains of paint onto the floor to be cleaned up later. Ambulon awkwardly shifted his weight from foot to foot as he waited until Pipes, visor lit bright in a smile, motioned him back down. 

“You ready? Remember, lower your sensor net, it’ll sting a bit. But soon you’ll have some shiny new paint to show off! You’ll look even sexier than usual.” Pipes froze, optics locking with Ambulon’s as they stared at each other in mutual shock until Pipes gave an awkward chuckle. “Ummm. Would this be a bad time to tell you I like you?”

Well, he had to give Pipes credit. He had more bearings than most mechs would in the same situation. He couldn’t help but laugh. “No, but it’s been… a while since that’s happened. I’ll make us even and admit that you’ve got really nice hands. Now we can both be a little uncomfortable finishing this.”

Pipes faceplates heated up and he fumbled with his second tool before clutching it to his chest. “Really? I mean, yeah sure, we can do that. Finish, I mean. Your paint.”

Oh, that was adorable. Ambulon grinned at him. “With your hands all over me? Yes, we can do that. I look forward to it.” He looked up at Pipes with half dimmed optics, his frame clicking as plating loosened for Pipes to reach under and between. 

Pipes’ vocalizer died with a pitchy whine and he rebooted it with an embarrassed noise. “Please tell me you’re not being sarcastic. Because I really, really want to.” 

Ambulon swung his legs over the side and sat up, snagging Pipe’s arm and dragging him close. He plucked the tool from Pipes’ hands and set it to the side. “I want this terrible paintjob gone, I also want to frag you into this berth.” Pipes’ fans kicked on and he smirked, leaning closer and tracing fingers over transformation seams. “And wouldn’t it be so much easier to simply get rid of any pesky paint transfers when you strip my old paint off?”

Pipes affirmative was more of a moan, but Ambulon would take it. The minibot leaned into his touches, hands braced against Ambulon’s middle, warmer than before. His own frame was heating up, and while he didn’t have an engine, Pipes’ was running enough to vibrate through both of their frames. “So are you going to join me up here or what?”

Pipes was all over him in a flash, knees braced to either side of his hips as hands eagerly touched every bit they could reach. Finding himself with a lapful of revved Pipes, Ambulon gripped his hips and rolled up, chuckling at the full-frame tremble and groan it got him. Pipes pressed into the motions, the friction building their charges higher, and his panel clicked open. 

Ambulon pressed kisses up the side of Pipes’ neck, following the line of a thick energy cable as he slid a hand up his side and traced a finger around the edge of Pipes’ open panel. His own opened and he teased the midsized cable from Pipes’ panel, tangling it around his fingers and vented a rush of hot air when Pipes arched against him. 

Small fingers curled between edges of plating, teasing sensitive wiring underneath as their fields merged and the air around them became heated and charged. “Please? I’ve wanted to for so long, but-but I didn’t think…”

Ambulon trailed kisses along the edge of Pipes’ mask, nipping in places and relishing the gasps they caused. “Think what? That I wouldn’t want you? Sweet, eager, perfect little you?” He plugged Pipes into his own port. Pleasure and energy and basic thoughts poured into his system and he shuddered and moaned, hips rocking against Pipes’ as he clutched him close. It must have been longer than he thought since he’d done this. He didn’t remember it feeling quite so… powerful. 

He nearly fumbled his own cable, pulling it loose and teasing Pipes’ port with the tip before plugging in and completing the cycle. They both vented hot air as fast as their frames could, fans roaring in the small room as the temperature shot up. Data streamed through the hardlines back and forth, each wave stronger than the last until Pipes shouted in overload, curling around Ambulon as much as he could, shaking and crying his name. 

Ambulon held onto his control just long enough to take in the explosive pleasure and push it back to Pipes, drawing out his overload and grinding their frames together, one hand pressed against Pipes’ back, the other curled possessively over his aft. Pipes whimpered at the onslaught of sensations and that tiny sound broke Ambulon’s control. Overload slammed through his systems and his input data was reduced to white noise and static. He might have called out Pipes’ name, but he couldn’t hear anything. 

Eventually, his systems came back on one by one and he found himself slumped back onto the berth, Pipes draped over him and all but vibrating with the last lingering thrums of pleasure. Pipes’ engine was purring and Ambulon stroked a hand down the length of his back, feeling each rise and dip and edge of plating under his hand. 

He wondered if Pipes would be opposed to this becoming a regular occurrence. Perhaps more than that. It took a couple tries, but he managed to get his vocalizer to work properly. “That is the best use I’ve ever had for this old paintjob. Though,” he said, grinning up at the ceiling as he transferred a good number of very pleasing images through the hardline to Pipes, “I look forward to seeing you covered in red and white.”

Pipes chuckled tiredly. “I’m thinking that would be a good look for me. Personally, I like you with a little bit of blue.”

Oh, now those were some naughty images. Pipes wasn’t half so innocent as he looked. “Good, so long as you know I hate to share.”

Pipes engine revved a little harder. “I-I can work with that.”  
…………………………

The next day, First Aid was the first to mention anything apart from his nice, shiny new paint. “Ambulon, you sly mech. I can practically see the ozone around you. Finally worked up the nerve to make a move on Pipes?”

Ambulon grumbled, giving himself away with a hint of a smile, and First Aid cheered. “I knew it! About time, you’ve been staring at his aft as much as his face.”

“I have not!”

First Aid snorted and waved as Ratchet walked in. “Ratchet! Guess who Ambulon was with last night?”

Ratchet barely glanced at them, smirking as he got to work. “I’m pretty sure everyone in that hall heard. You might want to request some sound mufflers.”

Ambulon laid his head on his desk and cursed them both.


End file.
